


Changing Shapes

by ClutchHedonist



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Cuddling, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6269854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClutchHedonist/pseuds/ClutchHedonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble. Bucky's adjustment to Steve's new body is rocky at best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Shapes

There are still nights where he jolts into waking in unfamiliar arms. A sudden drop in his chest, a burst of adrenaline heat, an instinctual strike in the dark towards the man at his side. Steve has caught Bucky’s fist an inch from his face twice. Bucky’s still not quite sure how the blonde awakens so quickly. But he’s always there somehow, ready to match his eyes to the smaller man’s, to grip his wrist - never too tight, always just enough - just before Bucky’s fist can impact.

In the daylight hours, Bucky’s mind can process the taut planes, the firmness of lean muscle. He can press his face into a broad shoulder and lose himself without fear of that loss becoming permanent. In the dark, the machine executes familiar directives on an unknown frame. Danger, proximity, eliminate.

Panting in the bathroom, the running sink and locked door pushing Steve’s worried pacing out of mind, Bucky wonders if it would be easier if the other man were still the same. If the machine would have coded scrawny, angular limbs. If fifty, sixty pounds less on the mattress would convince it that there was no danger. If Steve’s feet didn’t reach his, would it classify him as a friendly?

Blue eyes dart up to his when he pulls the door back. Steve’s brow is furrowed.

“You okay, Buck?”

A wordless nod, lips thin, jaw tight. He swallows, then swallows again. In a single step, those arms -the same unrecognized arms- envelope him. Within him, something is unraveling. As he begins to quake, they guide him back towards the bed, lay him down on it, draw him back up against an all-too-broad body.

“Hey. I’ve got you, all right? I’ve got you.”

He is breathing through his nose in tight, pinched shudders. His hand finds its way to Steve’s shoulder. Beneath its chilly metal palm, he can feel goosebumps prickle up on the blonde’s skin. Steve doesn’t flinch.

Bucky’s eyes travel up to the other man’s. Slowly, crookedly, a hint of a smile winds onto his lips. Steve’s brow finally uncreases. Along the length of his bicep, Bucky’s arm slowly, but surely begins to warm.


End file.
